


Snow White was a Whore

by Luna (lunasky)



Category: As the World Turns
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-21
Updated: 2007-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-02 23:04:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasky/pseuds/Luna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jumps six months into the future after the first scene where Noah visits Luke in the hospital.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow White was a Whore

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Fatema for the beta! Of course, all remaining mistakes are totally mine.

Maybe Luke would have been better off if he'd never found out about the not-kiss that saved his life, it was bad enough he could remember the kiss that had nearly ended it. Because certainly, there were many things that the human mind didn't need to contemplate—were in fact too much for one person to think about at all. All the missed fates, the accidents that never happened, the tragedies that could have been avoided if only the butterfly had flapped its wings in a different direction that day.

Unfortunately, sitting in the court room, day after day, listening to the drone of lawyers turning tragedy into bureaucratic missteps drove him further into his own thoughts. Anything was better than contemplating the fact that Colonel Mayer might get off. Small things like improper evidence handling, not having fully read him his rights...stupid mistakes that Luke tried to force from his mind so they wouldn't drive him crazy. Of course, the way he managed to do so was to think about everything that might have been, instead. It was especially easy since he spent so much time sitting in the court room, staring at the back of Noah's head.

Which is when he started to put it all together.

He and Noah had been nothing but a pipe dream. A tragedy built in to every single moment they shared. Everything they had done was in some way tainted; Noah had lied, first to himself, then Maddie, then his father—or more likely he'd started lying to his father a long time before Maddie had ever entered into the picture. Luke himself had contributed to hurting one of his closest friends. Their first kiss had betrayed her while their second had started this whole chain of events. Every single glance and caress they'd shared had in some way led them here.

Luke forced himself to stop at some point, but it was too late. Twenty minutes ago, Colonel Mayer had taken the stand and started spilling every bigoted thought running through his mind.

_“He did it. He turned my son into an abomination. I walked it on them kissing! Kissing! Noah never would have done something like that without his influence. I had to do something. I had to stop that faggot from ruining my son's life! _

_“...If only the rifle hadn't jammed. Then at least this wouldn't be for nothing. But when I saw them together in those woods, touching, I swore to myself that would be the last time he laid a finger on my son.“_

The rifle had jammed, saving his life. Luke sat there, letting the words narrate what he remembered of that afternoon. Parts of it were still blotchy, but everyday he remembered a bit more. Eventually he worked it out that if he'd actually let Noah kiss him that afternoon, Colonel Mayer would have had plenty of time to reload.

There was a murmur running through the crowd and Luke knew it didn't have anything to do with his near death. The crowd had started up when Colonel Mayer had said the word _touching_. Luke snorted under his breath. He thought he remembered Noah's hand on his waist, and maybe he had touched Noah's arm, but _touching_ made it sound so much dirtier.

Nobody understood that he just wasn't that lucky.

He risked a brief glance over to the other side of the court room, to Noah who was sitting just behind the prosecution. Noah sat there, as usual, looking straight ahead, his face an impermeable mask. Noah hadn't looked at him in months, not since that afternoon, really. Oh, he'd tried, Luke gave him that. Noah had tried to talk to him when he was in the hospital, lying there unable to move, but even then, it hadn't been a real conversation, real words hadn't been exchanged.

But the message had been loud and clear: some lifelong beliefs were harder to break than others. Even if Noah abhorred who his father was and what he had done, part of him was still heartbroken that he would never be the son his father wanted. Noah might not hate Luke for making him gay, but deep down Luke saw that he hated him for taking away the only family he'd ever known.

Luke picked at his tie and removed a non-existent piece of lint as the judge pounded loudly on his gavel.

Holden cleared his throat, breaking Luke from his reverie. "Hey. The judge called a recess. Wanna go get some lunch?"

Luke nodded, wanting nothing more than to get as far away as possible from this whole mess.

The buzz from all the people around him started up again and it took some effort to force himself on his feet—his back still hurt when he sat for too long. Stretching and twisting around to relieve the strain, he happened to catch a glimpse of Noah through the crowd, even briefly caught his eyes before he was swallowed up again.

The brief look almost made him sit down again because apparently he'd been a fool to believe he was used to not seeing Noah's face.

The crowd eventually ushered him along, except for when people stopped to stare. Luke walked in a daze, mostly ignoring the looks; his heart feeling like someone had slashed it with razor, drained it of blood and filled it with battery acid. Only his dad's hand resting on his shoulder, guided him towards the doors.

The cynical part of him wondered if the crowd would be this thick if he and Noah weren't gay. Someone snapped his picture, and Luke put his hand up to shield his eyes.

"Just keep going, we're almost there," Holden said from behind.

He still wasn't sure what these people expected to see. Blinking, trying to wash away the spots dancing in front of his eyes, knowing he was only a few feet away from the door, it caught him by surprise when the person in front of him stopped short.

Just as quickly, that person was gone, and there was Noah instead, caught in the crowd like he was. Except now the crowd parted to give them a few inches of space.

"Hey," Noah said, catching his gaze from the corner of his eyes.

Luke stared at him, at a loss for what to say. All the words he'd rehearsed these last few months vanished as his heart bottomed out, and suddenly everything felt too hot. The crowd was too thick and the walls were coming in around them. When another photographer snapped their picture, Luke said the first thing that popped out of his mouth. "Hay is what horses eat."

That must have startled Noah because for the first time in six months, Noah looked him in the eyes.

"What do you want?" Luke asked when Noah didn't say anything. He'd forgotten how intense Noah's gaze could be. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to talk to Noah anymore, he wasn't sure about anything at the moment except for the fact that the crowd had stopped moving, essentially trapping them here. Not that Noah was helping.

Noah had turned around to face him and the crowd was fixated, wanting to see this played out—not even Holden could get them moving again. After all, their tragic story had painted the front pages of the newspapers these last few months, especially whenever details of Colonel Mayer's crimes were released. And when that wasn't enough, regular speculation about him and Noah's love life could usually be found in the gossip columns.

Noah rubbed his face in his hands, mumbling his words. "I guess I just wanted to say sorry. Again. Look, sitting there, listening to my father put all the blame on you and call you a—"

"Faggot?" Luke supplied harshly when Noah stumbled on the word.

Noah nodded. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

Noah was sorry, but Luke had no idea what that meant. He couldn't let himself believe it was anything more than just awkward conversation because otherwise it was more false hope and more opportunity for something horrible to happen. Luke couldn't afford to have his heart broken again, especially since Noah's apology was followed by him looking away. Again.

Luke turned away to leave but Noah's grip on his arm stopped him.

"Was there something else?" Luke asked, his eyes stinging from exhaustion.

Noah looked at his shoes, refusing to meet his gaze, and something snapped inside Luke. He grabbed Noah's jacket and shoved him back into the crowd. "Stop it! Just look at me, okay. I'm not a cripple, so stop fucking pitying me. I can deal with your anger. I can deal with the fact that you hate me. At least have the courage to say it."

"Why would I hate you?" Noah cried out, as someone caught him from falling backwards. Flash bulbs went off all around them and Luke used the space he'd just created to push past the crowd and race outside.

The cold whipped his face as the wind blew the door shut, out of his hands. A light snow had just started to fall, and as Luke wrapped his suit jacket a little tighter around himself, he decided that maybe he didn't really want Noah to have the courage to say it at all.

~~~

  
Luke slammed his textbook shut and put his head down on the table. He'd read the last page three times and couldn't remember a thing. He banged his head softly against his arms.

"It's okay," Lily said, rubbing his shoulder as she put a glass of milk on the table next to him. "Your professor said he'd give you an extension to finish the paper, take it. Why do this to yourself?"

"Because I need to move on, Mom," Luke said, but pushed aside his books just the same. "I need to do something or I'm going to sit here and drown in my head."

"Looks like you're doing that already. You came here to get away from it all, so do something to take your mind off of it. If you want ideas, your grandmother was complaining about the upstairs faucet leaking, you could be a dear and fix it for her. Or if that's too much, you could always shovel the driveway or—"

A knock on the kitchen door put a stop to his mom's chores list, and enjoying his small reprieve, Luke drank his milk, returned to resting his head on his arms and debated the pros and cons of moving to Timbuktu. Undoubtedly it was quieter there; people would leave him alone—he'd only have to put up with the sand, famine and possibly snakes.

Muffled voices by the door and the awkward shuffling of boots and jackets sounded in the background, but Luke didn't look up until Noah was standing right next to him.

"What are you doing here?" Luke asked, the words coming out harsher than he intended. Or maybe not. Timbuktu still looked promising. Noah looked worse than he had this morning; there were shadows under his eyes and maybe the suit he'd been wearing had been starched a little too much because now Noah's shoulders were hunched over instead.

The room was cold where the blast of winter air had come in and Luke used it as an excuse to get up.

"Can we talk?" Noah asked, sticking his hands in his pockets. The snowflakes on his hair had started to melt, making his hair stick to his forehead.

"There's nothing to say."

"I think there is."

Luke turned away to put his glass in the sink, being the one unable to hold the gaze for once. The truth was he didn't know if he wanted to brush the hair out of Noah's eyes, or punch him in the face. He could feel his mom's eyes following him across the room, and either way, the last thing he wanted to do was have this out in front of her.

"You could help Luke feed the horses," Lily offered to Noah.

"Fine," Luke said quickly, before his mom could suggest cleaning out the basement. His head was spinning, and he was tired of the constant audience. He just wanted to be done with this. He spun around on his heel and went over to the closet, grabbing his jacket and mitts and leaving Noah to catch up.

Within minutes, they found themselves outdoors, heading over to the stables on the path his dad had cleared this morning. The wind had died down some, leaving only a few flurries still floating in the air.

"I didn't think there would be this much snow in Oakdale," Noah said, slowing down, as they approached their destination.

Luke shrugged and leaned against the side of the barn as they stopped short of the door. It actually felt pretty nice to be outside, and breathing in the fresh air was slowly dissolving his claustrophobia. It also felt nice to be standing next to Noah, but Luke figured that was the cold numbing his brain. "There usually isn't. Guess we were just _lucky_ this year."

"You really think I hate you?" Noah asked after a moment. He had his scarf wrapped tight around his neck, obscuring most of his face.

"Don't you?" Luke crossed his arms in front of his chest, trying to tighten his resolve to stay angry. Noah wasn't acting like he hated him, but Luke wasn't about to get his hopes up. "You've hardly spoken to me in six months, and when you do, you never look me in the eyes. I get it. I cost you the only family you've ever had. You should hate me."

"My father is an animal and all I regret every single day is that he's related to me. I don't hate you. I hate him."

"Then why have you been treating me like I have the plague?"

Noah kicked at some snow, digging the toe of his boot into the small snow bank on the side of the path. "Because I hate myself for hurting you. I believed him. I trusted him and he almost killed you. I can never forgive myself for that."

"So you ignored me?"

"I'm sorry!" Noah ran his hands through his hair. "It's just—I'm a coward, remember? I didn't want to see the hate in your face, so I didn't look."

Luke shook his head, fighting the temptation to reach out for Noah's hand. Despite everything, he could feel his anger and bitterness receding, and the worst part of it was that in their absence, he could feel the emotions that had been hiding underneath starting to resurface. They'd been buried for so long that he had started to get used to the vacuum in his heart. "You're not a coward."

"Then you don't hate me?"

The sudden influx of feelings made Luke feel light-headed. The words stuck in his throat, as if he wasn't sure which ones he wanted to say first. They all wanted to come out together, leaving his mouth to open and shut without saying anything at all. He wanted to just say _no_ and leave it at that; that's what the sane part of his brain was yelling at him to do, not to lie, but to cut his losses and move on. But the part of himself inside his chest that had been cut off for so long was screaming even louder, telling him to tell Noah the whole truth, because even if Noah walked away and never spoke to him again at least the words wouldn't continue to burn him up inside.

"I love you," Luke whispered, the words hurting his throat as they came out, and even though he'd said them quietly, it sounded like he'd shouted them from a tower. For a second, he hoped Noah hadn't heard—the wind had picked up a little, it was possible it had washed them away. But he could tell he wasn't that lucky because Noah's eyes got wider, and he took a step closer.

"What?"

Luke couldn't back up any further because he was already up against the side of the barn. The intensity of Noah's response surprised him. He'd expected anger, maybe even sadness. But Noah looked at him like his heart had stopped.

Which was sort of how Luke felt himself.

It was only when Noah started to lean in closer that Luke understood.

"Don't—" Luke said, forcing a finger onto Noah's lip at the last second before it could make contact with his own. Noah's lips sent an electric shock through his finger that traveled all the way down his arm, but he didn't move any closer. "We can't. This thing between us—it won't ever work. It's just...every time we kiss...or don't, it ends with disastrous consequences and I don't think I can handle getting my heart ripped out and stomped on right now. Neither of us are Prince Charming and we're not going to live happily ever after. This isn't some kind of fairy tale."

Noah smiled, and it made Luke's heart ache a little more. "It's okay, Luke. Things are okay now. You don't hate me. My dad doesn't matter, and your family's okay with us. There are no more wicked stepmothers out to get us."

"Yeah, well, hope's a poisoned apple." Luke said, and then winced the moment the words came out. There was such a thing as carrying a metaphor too far. The words weren't any less true because they were corny, but Noah didn't seem to get it. He only started to laugh.

"I can see why you're the writer. Do you always have all this stuff going through your head?"

"You're making fun of me now."

"Yeah well, Snow White was a whore." Noah offered, still grinning.

Luke didn't know what that was supposed to mean, part of his mind was still waiting in the silence that had followed his declaration, but if he was following this whole analogy then Noah was calling him a whore? "What? Look, forget I said anything. Obviously it was a mistake. I'm glad we got the whole not-hating thing cleared up, but can you go now? I really should feed the horses, and there's no point in you sticking around." Luke turned around and was about to pull open the barn door when he heard the telltale sound of a camera shutter going off.

Quickly glancing around, he saw the rain barrels a few feet away, resting by the corner of the barn, well covered with snow, but there was no mistaking the shadow of someone hiding behind them.

"Someone followed you here," Luke yelled out, pushing Noah away and running towards the barrels. Without hesitation, Luke reached around the side, grabbed the coat of the person crouched behind and hauled him to his feet.

The man even had the audacity to take a picture right in his face. Noah grabbed the camera from his hands while Luke tossed him down in the snow.

"Hey, give that camera back!" the man yelled.

"This is private property. I'll give you two minutes to get the hell out of here, before I call the cops." Luke said, pointing to the street.

"Whatever," the man said, picking himself off the ground. "Watching you guys isn't exactly my cup of tea, and hardly worth the commission. You know your boyfriend just called you a whore, right?"

Before Luke had a chance to say anything, Noah flicked the camera latch open, grabbed the film in the reel and with a quick, smooth movement pulled it out, exposing everything.

"That's my film, you fucking queer!"

Noah threw the camera and dangling film at the man's chest, making him fumble around trying to catch it.

"Get out of here before I go get our dogs," Luke spat out as the man grabbed all his stuff and turned and walked towards the road, cursing the whole way.

Luke watched him recede, unable to look away. It was only when Noah grabbed his hand that Luke realized it was trembling.

"I'm sorry, again. Shit, I can't do anything right," Noah said, tugging him closer. Luke didn't want to resist, probably couldn't have if he'd tried, so he took a step closer and rested his head against Noah's shoulder. "Why can't they give us any peace? What's the big deal? My father's a psycho—so what? I'm sure there are lots of guys out there that have psychos for a father and don't have to worry about someone snapping their picture every second."

"But they're not gay."

Luke felt Noah's jaw working, as if digesting his words. "And I'm sure if they were, their gayness didn't make their father a psycho, either."

Luke lifted his head up to look at him, but Noah was looking at the road. "Noah, you didn't make your father a psycho."

Noah glanced down at him and shrugged but then brought him closer, wrapping his arms around Luke's back. In the distance, Luke heard the reporter's car driving off, just as another car approached. The sounds carried easily over the open space between the road, the farm and the barn, and the serenity of the outdoors was shattered. The approaching car parked, he heard the door slam and his mom calling out to his dad. Luke couldn't understand what they were saying but they were obviously arguing about the car that had just driven away.

"Why are there always so many people around?" Luke asked, mostly to himself.

Noah sighed in agreement. "Is there anywhere we can hide, just for a moment? Please?"

Reluctantly, Luke stepped out of the embrace and gestured towards the barn door. When Noah nodded, Luke led them in. It was musty inside with the smell of horses and hay, but it was warm and comforting and Luke figured they could use a bit of both.

"Follow me," Luke said, getting an idea and pointing to the wooden ladder. Hauling himself up the eight or nine steps, he stepped aside and made room for Noah who was quick on his heels. "Welcome to the hayloft."

Noah looked around with a big grin on his face. "This is awesome."

Hay was piled in square bales; some stacked two or three high all around, with some empty rows on top where the hay had already been used. There was just enough room to walk to the next full stack, but Luke hopped onto the half-stack in front and motioned for Noah to follow. Together they climbed up to the top, and Luke couldn't help grinning as Noah found himself having to stoop.

"You're obviously too tall to be a farmer," Luke kidded as Noah plopped himself down on the hay.

"And this is a bad thing, how?"

Luke sat down next to him and shrugged out of his jacket. The barn was heated, and the hayloft was pleasantly warm. He took off his mittens and toque and laid them to the side. "You've never played in a hayloft. Trust me, that's tragic. We come up here all the time, especially in the fall when all the hay is still down there. You can jump from the edge there, right into the bales of hay. Faith loves playing Hide-and-Seek, too. One year, we had a pulley system set up where we could grab both ropes and swing down into the hay..."

Luke swallowed his words as Noah leaned in closer again; his heart suddenly pounding in his throat, obstructing things like air. Noah's breath was warm and intoxicating and for a brief, horribly short second, Luke thought that it wouldn't be such a bad thing if Noah kissed him again. Instead though, Noah reached forward towards Luke's hair, pulled out a piece of straw and retreated back a few inches, leaving Luke with an odd, hollow feeling in his chest that he tried to convince himself was relief.

Noah used the piece of straw to tickle Luke's nose. "If that's the only playing in the hay you've done, I would say that's the tragic part."

Silence settled between them as Luke looked into Noah's eyes and found that the hollowness, tension, intoxication and relief inside him had all merged into a muddled mess he had no idea what to do with and that Noah was oblivious to them all. In fact, the tension Noah had carried in his shoulders back at the farmhouse was gone, leaving a smile on Noah's face that Luke hadn't seen in a long while.

"Noah," Luke said, though it took every ounce of strength that he had, when Noah leaned his face in closer again. "We can't."

Noah tossed the straw to the side. "Why not?"

Because you don't want me. Because you probably don't know what you want...Luke thought in his head, trying to form the words out loud to make Noah realize what he was doing to him. But now all the words that were usually on the tip of his tongue were nowhere to be found.

"You're upset about earlier."

Luke's throat dried up and he had to work hard to swallow, the pain of Noah's rejection finally coalescing in his head. Noah hadn't said that he loved him back—not that Luke had expected him to. Really, he'd been expecting Noah to hightail it out of here. It only occurred to him right now that the fact that Noah had stayed, coupled by his earlier comment could only mean one thing.

Noah was still trying to figure out who he was; maybe he was trying to figure out what he liked. Luke was obviously the easiest choice for him to experiment with. Which was fine, maybe, but not something Luke could deal with right now, even if he'd played right into it by taking Noah up here.

Luke got up to leave, but Noah grabbed his arm and wouldn't let go.

"Talk to me Luke. Please," Noah pleaded.

Luke shook his head. "I—I just can't do this. I can't be casual with you. I'm not waiting for just anyone to kiss, I'm waiting for someone who matters."

"And I don't matter?"

Luke twisted his lips. "You matter too much."

Noah smiled and tugged at his arm until Luke sat back down in the hay. "That reporter had it all wrong, you know. I wasn't calling you a whore. I was just being stupid; I should leave all the cool metaphors to you in the future. What I had meant was that Snow White had it easy. Sure she had the wicked Queen to deal with, but after that she just had to wait around for someone, anyone to kiss her and she got to live happily ever after. After everything we've been through, I think the least we deserve is for the world not to end because we kiss."

Luke nodded slowly, trying not to read anything into Noah's words, but not wanting there to be any confusion either. The ball of tangled emotions was threatening to come undone, and he wanted to have some inkling of how badly it was going to end. "And the most we deserve?"

Noah looked away as if weighing his words. "You mean happily ever after?"

"I don't know. Maybe the possibility of that, at least. I'm not trying to pressure you or anything, I swear. I just want to know where we stand."

"Do you really love me?" Noah asked, this time focusing all his attention back on Luke.

Luke picked up a piece of straw and started twirling it between his fingers because anywhere was better than looking at Noah right now. "That's what I said."

"And I didn't say anything."

"I know."

"It's not that I don't," Noah said quickly, nervously. "I—I care, believe me. And I think I...love you...it's just...it's a lot for me to say right now. I'm just—"

Noah let his sentence trail off, but Luke figured it out when Noah bit his lip and it was like a giant weight being lifted off his shoulders and the constriction eased considerably off his heart. He got that Noah was scared, because the words had been freaking him out since he realized how he felt months ago. Scared didn't mean that Noah didn't care; it just meant he was scared. And scared was something Luke could live with. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything. There aren't any rules about what we have to say or do and I just want you to be happy. I just want both of us to be happy."

Noah cupped Luke's face with his hand and this time Luke let them be drawn together, even leaned forward the rest of the way himself, touching his lips against Noah's and then letting himself sink into him completely. Because after crossing that last inch, the rest of it was easy; Noah's lips felt amazing and Luke had been waiting so damn long to kiss him again, that it felt like he was starving.

He wound his fingers through Noah's hair, not wanting him to break away and Noah grabbed his arm, holding him just as close. Then Noah's tongue was touching his lips, slipping into his mouth and Luke was lost. Noah's hands were on his face, in his hair and around his body, holding him and clinging to him, Noah's tongue was in his mouth, skimming Luke's tongue and teeth.

Luke lost all coherent thought as Noah gently pushed him back until they were lying down in the hay, pressed up against each other.

"See, no apocalypse," Noah whispered with a haggard voice.

Luke arched his eyebrow and felt like laughing and maybe crying as well. Noah eyes were completely black as his hands traveled across Luke's body, slipping under his sweater and touching his back. That was nothing compared to the feeling of Luke's erection pressing tight against his jeans and rubbing directly against Noah's. "I don't know about you, but my world is pretty much shaking on its axis."

Noah pressed their hips closer together, and Luke moaned, threading his fingers in Noah's belt loop and keeping them close together.

"You feel amazing," Noah said, as his hands moved towards Luke's fly.

A cold wave of fear shot through him. Suddenly, what little control he'd had over his jumbles of emotions was on the verge of smashing into a thousand smithereens and everything felt like it was moving too fast. Luke tensed and tried to pull back, but Noah stopped him, holding his hand up to show him he wasn't touching him any longer. "Shh...it's okay. Please. Just like you said, we don't have to do anything if we don't want to. I just... I've got you back at this moment; please just let me keep kissing you at least."

Noah looked so sincere, Luke couldn't help but smile, his fear dissipating as Noah rubbed his arm. Feeling slightly foolish now, Luke scooted back until their bodies were almost touching again and propped his head up on his arm. "Guess I'm just the coward now."

Luke leaned forward to kiss him and Noah met him half way. They kissed for several minutes, until Noah pulled away, folding his arm under his head. "I don't think so. Have you ever done this before?"

Luke shook his head, feeling the blood rushing to his cheeks. "Obviously you have."

"Well, not this," Noah said, with a wicked grin, pushing their hips together and flexing them caused more friction and heat to pool directly in Luke's groin.

Luke groaned and instinctively rotated his hips forward, matching Noah's movements and intensifying all the sensations. "Ah...yeah well, seems you know what to do just fine."

"No. There's so much I don't know. I don't know where you like to be touched," Noah said, slipping his hand back under Luke's shirt, and skimming his stomach, and moving up to his chest. "I don't know if you like this, or maybe this."

Luke shivered as Noah's fingertips touched his nipples, traveled over his pecs and back down his side, drawing them closer until their chests were touching as well. "Yeah, I like that," Luke breathed into Noah's ear.

Noah seemed to like what Luke was doing as well because he shuddered and Luke felt him get harder, felt it against his own heat and exalted in the heady feeling of power it gave him. Maybe it wasn't just Noah doing things to him...maybe he was doing the same damn things to Noah.

Unable to resist testing his theory, Luke grabbed Noah's ass, and thrust against him eliciting a wickedly dirty moan from Noah and a whimper to do it again. So Luke did, and let his hands slip under Noah's sweater, touching the expanse of skin suddenly available to him and exploring Noah's chest and back.

Luke thought maybe he could get drunk just from touching Noah's body.

Noah grabbed Luke's lips with his and rolled them over, trapping Luke on his back with Noah on top and that was it. Luke had no desire to resist any longer. He spread his legs apart, letting Noah lie between them, letting their cocks rub together with just the thin pieces of denim between them, basking in the weight of Noah on top of him.

"Please," Luke begged when the broke apart for air. Because his body was screaming for more, for whatever Noah wanted to give. The pressure, the friction, they just weren't enough. He needed—wanted more, he wanted to feel Noah touching him down there, without the frustration of clothing in the way. "I want you to keep going."

"Are you sure?" Noah asked, his voice barely above a whisper, desperation and need etched into his face.

Luke nodded. He had never been so sure of anything.

Rolling off of him, Noah lay back down on his side, grabbing the waist of Luke's jeans and pulling him close. With a flick of his wrist, Noah had the top button undone and the zipper down and Luke's head hit the hay with a thud as Noah's fingers slipped in his boxers and wrapped around his dick.

"Wha—oh God," Luke mumbled incoherently as Noah's hand explored his length, slowly moving up and down, teasing the head and then moving back down until Luke's world was reduced to Noah's fingers on his cock. As Noah got used to the movements and started to try other things out, Luke could feel his world in danger of spiraling completely out of control if he didn't do something to slow them down. But he didn't want to slow down either.

So he reached out, fumbled around until he could get Noah's pants open, and managed to push them down far enough so he could get his hand in Noah's underwear as well.

But touching him, feeling Noah's dick, hearing him groan and feeling him get harder in his hands didn't help Luke gain control at all. It was amazing and incredible and a little like jumping off a cliff with the adrenaline singing in his veins. It made him want more, made him want to keep chasing this thing they were on the precipice of taking, made him want to keep touching, made him want to make Noah groan louder, groan until he screamed and made him want to take Noah somewhere amazing, and at the same time, made him desperate to get there.

"Look at me," Noah whispered, touching Luke's face with his free hand.

Luke opened his eyes; he didn't think he'd consciously closed them, but opening them now, he realized he'd been missing the best part of all. Now he found himself looking into Noah's eyes, and the things he was feeling suddenly became this thing they were sharing together. And there was no looking away; there was no shyness or fear in Noah's eyes. Only want and something more—something that looked an awful lot like love, even if Noah was scared to call it that and Luke drank it in.

They shifted closer together, holding on to each other until Luke felt Noah tense, felt the tension coiling in his own body as Noah arched his back and then he felt Noah coming, felt warm liquid exploding in his hands and a broken cry in his ears and that was enough to push Luke over the edge. Luke was coming as well, staring at Noah, clinging to him tight as he let go of himself and everything coalesced into just the tiny space they occupied.

Lying back in the hay, Luke shuddered as Noah moved his hand away, the loss of contact suddenly making him ache and feel cold. But a millisecond later, Noah was back and spooning up against him.

"Can we stay here forever?" Noah asked, stretching his arms until they wrapped around Luke.

Luke smiled, thinking that there's no way Timbuktu compared to being here right now. "Sure. At least until dinner's ready. And at some point we'll have to clean up," he said, though the idea of moving any time in the near future seemed absurd.

The fading light through the upper window told him that they would have to go soon, so he closed his eyes and enjoyed this one moment. Noah stayed silent but held him close, and Luke realized he was happy with this. It didn't matter that Noah hadn't said that he loved him, not really, anyway, because words got twisted all the time, but what they had right now was real. And real was better than a fairytale any day.


End file.
